


Moving On and Getting Over

by rocksteadyshefani



Category: Shefani, The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocksteadyshefani/pseuds/rocksteadyshefani
Summary: An unexpected chance at new beginnings





	

**Author's Note:**

> Was listening to "Moving On, And Getting Over" by John Mayer and got some unexpected inspiration to write this

She takes her time trying to drag herself out of bed. One glance over to her alarm clock next to her bed, _-3 AM_ -, and she’s almost ready to just turn back around and give sleep another try, but she’s been crying too much and eating too little and she needs to go get herself some water before she literally dehydrates.  
  
When her brother offered taking her kids for a couple days, she felt both relieved and worthless; relieved because she couldn’t stand the thought of her kids seeing her like this. Worthless because taking care of her kids was the only thing she felt fairly good at, and somehow she felt like she’d let them down.  
  
It’s been months since she found out her ex-husband cheated on her for god knows how long. Even though her marriage was anything but sunshine and roses most of the time, she still never expected it to blow up in her face the way it did.  
  
Walking to her kitchen to get herself some water turned out to be more of a battle than she even imagined it’d be; her limbs felt heavy like bricks and her head was screaming at her. She tried to focus on the cold liquid sliding down her throat, easing the throbbing pain settled there.  
  
It’s when she attempts setting the glass down on her kitchen counter, and fails; sending the glass straight down to the floor, glass shattering everywhere, that she snaps. She screams, - might’ve been a raspy grunt-, with the state her throat is in.

She crouches down intending to pick up the broken glass, but as soon as her knees make contact with the floor, she lets herself slide down completely; the hard floor the only piece of stability she can seem to find.  
  
She doesn’t know why in the midst of her chaos her mind wanders off to _him_ , but it does.

It was crazy hearing him talk about his own life in shambles; his own marriage going up in flames. Everything he said that day, all his words spoken, were her _unspoken ones._  
  
For some reason, ever since that day, being around him became her stability of some sorts. He provided her with the knowledge that she wouldn’t be judged, - _not around him_ -. He made her feel understood without having to use words. He offered her sympathy without it turning condescending.  
  
Glancing over to the clock one more time, to find out it’s a little over 4 AM, sends her into an unexpected breakdown. She’s sad because it’s only a couple hours before life actually starts again, and she’ll have to retreat from the only safe place she knows nowadays, - her bed-. She’s also sad because it’s officially too late ( _or too early_ ) to call him.  
  
Feeling entirely too exhausted and too beaten down by the world, she makes her way back to bed, but not without at least sending him a text, since she convinced herself she can’t call.

She promised herself she wouldn’t give him any reason to worry, but the way she managed to sound both desperate and numb over text, probably did the opposite.  
  
When her phone rings only a couple minutes later, she knows for sure that she worried him. She’s once again struck by his ability to talk to her without making her feel weird for feeling the way she does. The sound of his voice slowly becoming a sedative to nerves.

“Why didn’t you call me?”  
  
It’s ironic really, because calling him was all she’s been thinking about from the moment her brother came around to pick her kids up, but when her fingers reached for his name on her phone, it was too late to call a “friend”, without lying about the intentions.  
  
“I didn’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.  
  
There’s a silence for a while and she thinks that maybe he’s finally realizing what time it is and that he literally couldn’t stop himself from calling her regardless; checking up on her.  
  
She’s always thought of Blake as a handsome guy; the way he dismisses his own attractiveness and the casualty of which he interacts, adding to his appealing persona. She’s always found him to be a very easy person to be around, but she hadn’t let herself take notice of him the way she has lately and it scares her more than she’s willing to admit.  
  
“I just want you to know you don’t have to go through nights like these alone.”  
  
Her heart rate increases dangerously at his words. Even though his words aren’t crossing any lines, she knows the weight of his words. She knows she’s not alone, she has her family, her friends, even music, but Blake’s _different_. She’s not alone, because she has people, but she’s still lonely. He’s telling her she doesn’t _have_ to be.  
  
Or maybe she’s just getting way ahead of herself.

  
  
“I know. Thank you, Blake.”

  
  
**  
  
Her mind is working in overdrive. She should’ve said no, should’ve told him he shouldn’t bother, but instead she jumped at the opportunity of having him come over. She gave up on sleeping that night anyways and it didn’t seem like his night was going any better. She wasn’t being selfish if it would help the both of them, right?  
  
She can’t help but overthink his motives though; why would he rush over to her place around 5 AM, all so she wouldn’t have to be alone? Is he just that dedicated to all his friends? Just so she can keep her nerves in check until he arrives, she’ll lie to herself and say the answer to that is yes.  
  
When he arrives, it isn’t awkward. He just hugs her, lingers maybe a fraction too long, but as long as they both act oblivious to it, she won’t have to overthink it. _She thinks._  
  
“You didn’t have to do this, y’ know? Come here, I mean.”  
  
It’s the first thing she says as they’re both sitting down on her couch and she wants to hit herself. It sounded so cold, so not how she intended it to sound before she said it out loud. He looks at her briefly before flashing his ( _way too_ ) charming smile at her.

“I know.”  
  
He doesn’t say anything else after that and it kills her. She thought he’d get offended or at least look mildly surprised, but instead he looks at her full of understanding; _likes he’s been there_. And then it hits her, that he’s still in the same boat as her.  
  
She doesn’t know why she expects so much from him; because as much as she thought his reaction would be different, she can’t say she’s surprised it’s not.

He’s just good with her. He knows how to handle her, and maybe that’s because he knows how he’d like to be handled himself, but something tells her it’s more than that.  
  
“Wanna hear a secret, Gwen?”  
  
Her eyes widen playfully at his words and he grins at her with the same intensity. She nods before she gets carried away in whatever it is she’s feeling right now.  
  
“I was thinking about you anyways. I’m kinda glad you gave me an excuse to come over.”  
  
For a second she can feel her heart actually skipping a beat and _no_ , she won’t say it’s the last thing she expected, because it’s not. She actually had a feeling that might’ve been the case, but what she never expected were her suspicions to be confirmed by him.  
  
“You don’t need an excuse.” The words escape her before she can stop them.  
  
Everything is moving so fast, but she can’t seem to slow them down. Her whole life came crashing down not too long ago, and even though she sometimes feels like she’s barely holding on, her mind and heart are unquestionably occupied with this cowboy sitting on her couch.  
  
She knows they’re both shattered. She knows the chances of life giving her a blessing this big, must be an illusion or something. _She knows_. But right now, this illusion she’s clinging to, seems to be her salvation. He seems to be her salvation through all of this and maybe, just maybe she won’t have to run from it. Maybe she can embrace it even.  
  
“Would you mind laying with me, Blake? I’m getting tired, but I don’t want you to leave.”  
  
The moment he nods and gently takes her hand as he lets her lead them to her bedroom, she knows she’s crossing so many lines. She won’t be able to wake up tomorrow and define their relationship as solely friends after this, but she’s feeling too much of everything, to care.  
  
There’s a split second where she feels bad, after settling in under her covers and watching Blake awkwardly position himself on top of the covers so he can hold her. “Won’t you get cold?”  
  
She hears him chuckle softly behind her. _Feels_ it, as his breath tickles the back of her neck.  
  
“Don’t worry about it, darling. Try to get some sleep.”  
  
And she does. For the first time in months, she’s able to close her eyes feeling somewhat content. Her life is still in shambles, her marriage still ended and she’ll still have to find a way to climb herself out of this abyss,  
  
  
  
_But maybe in doing so, she’s climbing her way towards new beginnings_.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
